Namesake
by The-Crazy-One613
Summary: Hamish Sherlock Watson is a very bright child. But, what will he find when he begins to dig into the history of his dad's life before he was born?
1. Chapter 1

****Author's Notes: well, I'm new to this whole thing. I hope you guys like it! more to come soon!****

Hamish Sherlock Watson was a very bright child. He had learned to read from an early age, and was insatiably curious about everything in his world. He loved to read and write; but, more than anything, he loved his father.

Da, the man who everyone else called "John", was the brightest and most important thing in Hamish's world. But, as Hamish grew older, he began to see through the smile that his father put on that could light up an entire room.

At age 9, Hamish found a link to his dad's old blog. He discovered the truth about what his dad used to do, and about the origin of his rather strange middle name.

* * *

Being a curious child, Hamish searched the house on afternoons when he made it home before his dad. He discovered boxes of case notes, files, and other things from his dad's mystery solving days with the mysterious Sherlock Holmes. The lurch he felt in his heart when he read of the detective's death was one of the most painful things he could ever recall feeling. Somehow, he knew this must be why Da felt the way he did.

The next week, Hamish spent his usual library trips researching the great Consulting Detective. He learned about James Moriarty, and Richard Brook; the lie that unfurled Da's and Sherlock's whole world. He flew through the chronological articles detailing the rise of "Watson's Warriors", the movement of people who believed in Sherlock, and the final discovery that Moriarty's story was a lie.

Hamish could feel his father's pain as he uncovered the cruelly and crudely shot phone video of Sherlock's fall, and Da's reaction. He cried until someone asked him if he was okay, promptly lied that he was, and got up to leave.

* * *

On his way home from the library, Hamish was stopped by a black car. He could tell that this was important. It was an expensive car; whoever owned it must be practically royalty. So, when he was ordered to get in, against his better judgment, he obeyed.


	2. Chapter 2

Hamish was taken to a small, definitely private, cafe on the outside of London. No one was present except an unassuming barista, and a man dressed in a smart suit, sitting at a table for two, with an umbrella leaning up against his right leg. Searching the man's features, Hamish immediately recognized a similarity to someone he'd seen recently, but was unable to quickly determine who.

"Ah, Hamish Sherlock Watson. I had a feeling that I would be meeting you soon. It seems like not long ago I had a similar conversation with your father. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Mycroft Holmes"

Hamish gaped a little at the man who could identify him by name. His Da had done well to keep their family under the radar as much as possible, mostly so that he didn't have to deal with questions about how his Da was holding up after Sherlock's death. One would think that it had died down...

Hamish's attention snapped back to the man in front of him. He stuttered a bit, then just decided to settle for shaking the man's hand.

"So, I see you seem to have taken a keen interest in researching your father's, and my brother's, activities and their former lives from before you were born. I was hoping to help you, but I have to cut this meeting short, as I have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it. You have a mobile phone, do you not?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Okay, take this slip of paper. There is a phone number on it. You must do exactly as I tell you. Put it as a contact in your phone, but never tell anyone who it is. At precisely Noon tomorrow, you should be on your lunch hour, you are to text this number with only your name contained in the message. Your full name; nothing more. Do you understand?"

"I do, sir."

"I must be off then. Best of luck, young one."

The man was gone quickly, and Hamish was being herded toward the black car again. He was dropped off exactly where they'd picked him up, and headed straight home.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hamish Sherlock Watson! Where have you been?" Da sternly said as Hamish walked through the door.

Hamish panicked for a second. This meeting of his had seemed to be top secret, something he shouldn't even tell Da. But, he trusted Da with everything. If he couldn't tell him about this, then it felt wrong somehow. Hamish settled for the easy route: telling the truth, but leaving bits out.

"I was at the library Da. I was studying for an exam and I lost track of time. I should have called, I'm sorry."

John sighed, "It's alright Hamish, just don't do it again. I don't think I could bear to worry over you like that anymore. You almost gave me a heart attack. Now, go get washed up for dinner."

Hamish nodded at his father, and walked upstairs towards his room to change out of his school uniform. He looked about his room, and it seemed strange that, over his past few weeks of research, this room used to belong to his father. For as long as Hamish could remember, it had been his; and, from his Da's stories, it was his since before he could remember too.

Hamish sat his knapsack down, and then perched himself on the edge of his precisely made bed, just like Da had taught him to do it. He thought for a long second about why Da would move into Sherlock's old room after he died. Why hadn't that memory been too painful? Why hadn't he left Baker Street altogether? Hamish realized that there were still too many missing pieces, and that he didn't know that Da hadn't left Baker Street at some point. He just knew that there was a lot left to figure out.

Dinner was uneventful chit-chat with Da about school and work. He did make really good chicken, though. Afterwards, Hamish was off to get ready for bed, a bit of anticipation in the pit of his stomach about what he faced tomorrow. Somehow, he felt that this text message could change his life.


	4. Chapter 4

After a partially restless night, Hamish woke to the sound of his alarm, and could hear his Da downstairs making tea and breakfast. He hurried downstairs to get his shower, ate quickly, and left with a hug and a "see you later"

* * *

School was very tedious as Hamish was waiting for lunch hour to see what would happen. As soon as the bell rang, he pulled out his mobile and sent the text. The five minutes of waiting that it took to get the response seemed like hours, and Hamish had already eaten all he could stomach of his lunch. He nearly jumped when his phone buzzed.

"Hamish, there will be a black car behind the school building in five minutes. I will arrange an excuse for the rest of the day. I look forward to meeting you – SH"

For a moment, Hamish thought he'd forgotten how to breathe. Wasn't Sherlock supposed to be dead? If he really wasn't, why hadn't he come back to Baker Street before now? Did he even care about Da at all? If this Mycroft fellow had been watching him, he was certainly watching Da too? Didn't they know how hurt he was?

Hamish was furious, he felt hurt in sympathy for his father, he was frustrated, stunned, and more than a little scared. Regardless, he decided to go and ask questions himself. He walked straight out the back door of the building, and no one stopped him or even bothered to look at him as is required by school policy. The black car was just where it was supposed to be, halfway hidden behind the rubbish bins. Hamish got in and steeled himself for what was to come.

* * *

The small cafe he arrived at looked shockingly similar to the one he had been taken to last night; but it was definitely different. He could see minor detail changes in the wallpaper and tiles on the floor, as well as the overall feel of the place. But, he wasn't here to focus on aesthetics, he was here to ask questions.

Sitting in a corner of the cafe was a tall, lanky man with thick, curly dark hair. Hamish recognized him immediately from the pictures he'd seen, though this man had definitely taken the past fifteen years roughly, and it showed on his face. The man looked up, saw Hamish, and spoke.

"Ah, Hamish, please have a seat. No doubt, you know who I am; and no doubt, you have questions."

"Yes, sir, I do." Hamish said a bit shyly. He didn't expect this conversation to go easily, and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"well, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a cup of tea?" Sherlock said with a wide and welcoming, but somewhat suspicious grin

"Yes, I would love one. Thank you."

Sherlock turned to the waitress who seemed to materialize at the exact right moment and mumbled an order to her. A few minutes later, she returned with Hamish's tea, exactly the way he usually took it. Hamish took a careful sip as Sherlock began.

"I suppose I should start where your research left off. The media is so clueless as to what is actually happening. As you can tell from the meeting with my brother, I have friends in very high places. As it were, James Moriarty was threatening the lives of John, Mrs. Hudson, and a certain Detective Inspector named Greg Lestrade. No doubt your father has introduced you to DI Lestrade, and you know the other two quite well, I assume. Furthermore, Moriarty threatened to kill them unless I jumped. As you know, it was apparent that I did, but obvious to you now that I survived. Such records are easily faked; and, as much as I hated doing that to your father, I did what I had to."

Hamish stared on with a questioning look, soaking up all that Sherlock said, but not needing to say much, as Sherlock read the questions on his face.

"The reason I did not tell him was because Moriarty had a vast network of minions that needed to be completely dismantled for all three of them to be safe. About two and a half years after my apparent death, I had all but gone through every one of Moriarty's contacts. After killing the last of them, I went to my brother. As you may have guessed, there are hidden cameras in the Baker Street apartment. I could see just what your father was up to, so that I could begin to deduce what I was coming home to."

Hamish held up his hand for Sherlock to stop for a second. He was surprised when the detective actually cooperated. He calculated in his head. Da and Ma had gotten together just a year after Sherlock had died. Less than a year after that, Hamish had been born. Understanding flooded his mind as he realized what Sherlock had seen.

"He seemed so happy, John did. I didn't want to ruin things for him or you or your mother. But, as you may also have figured out from some of your dad's case notes, I was formerly addicted to drugs, and fell back into the habit at the thought of losing your father forever." Sherlock stopped, obviously holding back tears, "Hamish, I was in rehab when your mother died. I am so sorry to hear of it. I should have been there for you and your dad. It would have been a trying time, but I owe him at least that much."

At this point, they were both holding back tears. But Hamish just looked on and gravely nodded at the man sitting across from him; and, speaking for the first time since Sherlock had begun his monologue he said, "well, then, be there now. I don't think you know how much Da misses you...I do my best, but I'm not you, and I'm not Ma."

Sherlock stared at Hamish for a second, completely dumbstruck. For once, he was at a loss for words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking again, and then hung his head as he whispered, "would he even take me back?" and started to choke up again.

Hamish didn't know how to respond. He couldn't know for sure how his dad felt. But, he knew that, for as little as he knew the man sitting across from him, he had to try.

"Give me a few days, let me feel things out. I will text you; but, you have to promise me one thing." Hamish started crying "You can't ever leave him again. You can't do this to him. You have no idea how much you've hurt him."

Tears started to run down Sherlock's face. He watched as the pain in Hamish's young eyes morphed in his mind into the pain he knew would always be in John's. He couldn't believe that he'd let things go this long, but he set his jaw and became completely determined that he would make things right again.

"That, I will do, Hamish. Your father means the world to me, but he is not the only one in his life right now. I needed to make sure that you were okay. I didn't know it would be this painful. God, you look so much like him. You are just as brilliant as I'd always remembered him. Let me know when you find out anything, okay?"

Hamish nodded solemnly and stood, stretching out his hand to shake Sherlock's. But, Sherlock's unusual emotional outburst hadn't quite subsided, and he pulled the boy into an awkward hug, staying like that for just a few minutes, and relishing the familiar smell that could only cling to someone who has lived with John Watson.

They parted ways without another word; only a silent determination in agreement of what had to be done next. Hamish knew that the next few weeks might be very difficult, and mulled them over in his mind during the car ride to the block before Baker Street. Bringing up old memories would be difficult for Da; but, Hamish was convinced that the end result could help to heal a lot of the hurt he saw in his father's eyes. He got out of the car and set off for home.


	5. Chapter 5

Hamish arrived home just in time so that it seemed he was returning from school on time, so Da didn't ask any questions. They just settled into their evening routine of dinner and telly, getting ready for the next day, and talking while doing up the dishes. Hamish couldn't see a better opportunity to broach the subject.

"Da, can you tell me stories about you and Sherlock?"

John got a faraway and very sad look in his eyes. It seemed he was about to cry, when he took a deep breath to answer his son.

"What do you want to know, Hamish?" he said tentatively.

"Well, you always said he was brilliant, that he was a great man. What did you guys do together? You never told me anything about before you met Ma, except that Sherlock was amazing, and then he died."

"I guess I shall tell you, on one condition. You must answer a question for me."

"Sure, Da. Anything."

"Why do you want to know now? What drove you to ask this question now rather than before? I know you're a smart chap, Hamish; smarter than most. So, I know there must be a reason."

Hamish stared at the bubbles from the dishes that reached almost to his elbows. He thought for a long second about what he would say.

"Da, I found your old blog when I was using your laptop the other night. I read it; all of it. But, I want to know from you."

John sighed, placing the last plate on the drying rack and grabbing a towel from the counter. He dried his hands, and then handed the towel to Hamish to do the same. "Come sit down in the living room, and we can talk."

* * *

"Well, you know your dad was in the army, a long time before you were born. I loved it there; I got to help lots of people. Well, I wasn't there long before I was shot in the shoulder; that's what that odd scar is from," John pulled down the shoulder of his jumper so his son could see. "When they sent me home, I didn't really have much of a place to go. One of my mates from uni introduced me to Sherlock, and the rest was practically history. We solved crimes together, Sherlock and I. He was brilliant, could read your whole life's story from the small details, but he was a handful to be dealt with, and that's where I came in. Many said that Sherlock was the brains, and I was the heart, and together we made the perfect team. He was my best friend.

I was devastated when he killed himself. Only later did I find out that he did it to save me, Mrs. Hudson, and DI Lestrade."

Hamish watched as his father's shoulders slumped and his head hung down. Fearing that he might cry, but not wanting to be too touchy, Hamish rested a gentle hand on his father's shoulder.

Hamish paused a moment, and then whispered, "Da, could you tell me your favorite adventure with Sherlock?"

"Well, Hamish, there was the moment I realized...that is, the moment I knew...the day I realized that Sherlock and I would be friends forever. It was the first day we'd met, the very first crime we ever solved together..." John continued his story with attention to every detail he could remember.

They stayed up half the night, John regaling his amazing adventures with Sherlock. Hamish could see a small glint of happiness in his father's eye as he told some of the stories about the crimes they'd solved, and some of the utterly ridiculous things Sherlock had done; even the story about the time that John had gotten an ASBO, embarrassing as that was.

Hamish soaked it all in, trying his best to read what he could from his dad's tone of voice and expressions. The fact that he didn't cry at all seemed like a miracle, given the subject. But, Hamish knew that his father was a very strong man, and could tell he was doing his best to hold himself together.

* * *

A few hours later, John deemed it time for bed, and sent Hamish off to get ready. When he was settled into bed and said goodnight to Da, Hamish dug his phone out of his knapsack by his bed.

"Things are going well so far. Will update if anything changes. Expect good news. -HW"

And, at that, Hamish went to sleep feeling very satisfied about his accomplishments. Now, it was time to get into some more drastic measures.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day was Hamish's usual library day, but he elected to take his studying off to meet Sherlock so that they could work things out a bit. It seemed odd to him, meeting with someone who was, to him, a complete stranger. But, then again, Hamish didn't quite feel that way entirely. He felt like he had known Sherlock for years, especially with the way his Da talked about him.

* * *

On the ride over to the cafe, Hamish considered what his Da might say if he found out what he'd been up to. He might be a bit upset at Hamish, mostly for lying to him. Hamish could imagine that he would be somewhat pleased to see Sherlock again, but maybe angry for all that he'd had to live through. He wondered just how long it would be before he'd see that reaction, and whether he really wanted to. Though, he would do anything to see Da happy, and he very much hoped that this would help.

* * *

Sherlock was waiting in the usual spot. They got tea and a few biscuits as Hamish recounted the story from last night in as very much detail as he could manage; but still getting interrogated by the detective over the specifics. But, what surprised Hamish more was the light in Sherlock's eyes when he recounted, five times at least, his dad's first few words of the conversation; his stuttering and stammering over what it was he wanted to say. Sherlock seemed to be pretty excited about this, for reasons that Hamish could not quite understand.

Hamish and Sherlock bantered on a while longer about mundane details of their lives; mostly of John's life. Sherlock seemed to want to know anything and everything about Hamish's Da that he could possibly find out short of seeing and interrogating the man himself. Hamish could tell just how very much Sherlock had missed his Da in all those years. He could see just how anxious the detective was to see his blogger again.


	7. Chapter 7

Hamish arrived home just on time; he was beginning to master the sneakiness required in such a situation. He and his Da went through the same routine that they always did. Making dinner, watching telly, doing up the dishes. But, the difference tonight was that, while Hamish and his Da watched telly, he asked him a very pointed question that he was only slightly fearful he would get in trouble for.

"Da, did you ever love anyone else like you loved Ma?"

John almost choked on the mouthful of rice he was eating, and stared at Hamish, trying to figure out just what he was getting at.

"I loved your mother very much Hamish. Why do you ask?"

"Da, you didn't answer my question."

"Hamish, you didn't answer mine."

"I just want to know, is all. You know, it's okay to love more than one person."

John gaped a little and chuckled at his son's slightly obvious revelation. Though, he wondered where he'd gotten this frankness about things. Certainly not from John or his Ma; it reminded him so much of...

"Yes, yes you can."

"So, did you?"

"Well, you know, Hamish, I guess I have to be honest with you. I never intended to lie to you about anything, and I don't mean to start now. This may sound strange to you, because you're young and you don't understand how love works yet, but I certainly thought I was in love with Sherlock for a long time. I was a wreck after he died, and your Ma loved me enough to pick me up and stay with me all the same."

John suddenly stopped, as if he feared that he'd said enough. Hamish looked at him, waiting for more, but knowing he wouldn't get any. Even after knowing him his whole life, Hamish still found his Da confusing and cryptic. They finished dinner in a bit of a tense silence, then got up to go their separate ways. It was Da's night to do dishes, and Hamish had homework. More so, he was still ruminating over what Da had said.

You can't just go up to someone and say, "hey, my Da is in love with you." that would hardly be proper. Also, Hamish had this feeling that Sherlock would sill be a bit too sore to take such a shock. It seemed to him that the past few years had been as bad, if not worse, on Sherlock than they had been on his Da. This would take a bit more tact than simply relaying facts about their lives and what his Da had been up to.

"Need to meet with you tomorrow. New development. Don't worry. - HW"


	8. Chapter 8

Hamish could barely sit through school the next morning. He was impatient, but slightly intimidated by the task ahead of him. He spent as much of the time as he was able just searching his mind for an answer as to how to do this, and, as of yet, he hadn't come up with anything. He was starting to think that maybe, for once, he would just wing it instead of trying to figure everything out. Who knows how badly _that _could end.

Sherlock sent the car again halfway through the school day. Hamish could tell that he was just as anxious to get the news as Hamish himself was to give it. But, on the way over, he put his head in his hands in frustration

"How the hell am I supposed to do this?" he muttered to himself.

For the first time since Hamish had began riding in these strange black cars, he got a sight of the driver.

There was always a completely black-tinted panel of glass between Hamish and the front of the car, so he never bothered to wonder who exactly it was who was driving him. But, when a small LCD monitor flashed to life in front of him, he was quite surprised to find that it was a woman driving. She was beautiful, in a very normal kind of way, and Hamish felt like she'd known her forever, though he was sure he'd never seen her in his life.

"Hamish, dear?"

"Y-yes ma'am?"

"I'm sure you don't know who I am, but I know a lot more about you than you might think. I'm Molly Hooper. I spent a lot of time with Sherlock and your father back before I had to help Sherlock fake his suicide. Without getting into all of that, I will tell you one thing. Just tell it to Sherlock like it is. He can handle it; even if it does shock him some. It'll be fine" she said with a smile, and clicked the screen off again.

Hamish didn't hear from Molly for the rest of the ride, but he'd settled himself by the time they got to the cafe, and was ready to go do what he had to do. He got out of the car and walked inside, hoping that this would go well.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting in his usual spot, bouncing like a child who'd had too much coffee. Judging by the many empty cups lining the table, Hamish figured that coffee was a safe assumption. He could only hope that the detective hadn't been into anything more dangerous.

"What is it? What have you got?" Sherlock sputtered out as soon as he recognized Hamish.

"Calm down, Sherlock. Everything is fine." Hamish started coolly, "there's just...erm...something I have to tell you." he finished nervously.

"Well, out with it, what did you find out?"

Hamish could tell that Sherlock was trying to prepare himself for the worst kind of news. He could see the pain in the man's eyes at waiting every second to know whether or not he would get to see John Watson again. At that moment, Hamish realized that Sherlock loved his Da too.

"I talked to my Da last night. I asked him if he'd ever loved him as much as he loved Ma. He told me he loved you."

For a second, it seemed like time itself had stopped. Sherlock gaped at Hamish for what seemed to be a strangely long moment for such a smart man to be left speechless. Hamish could only break out in a wide smile as he saw realization cross his new friend's face. He chuckled lightly, as Sherlock did the same. But, for the first time since they'd met, Hamish saw hope in Sherlock's eyes, as they teared up and overflowed, and he was quickly being pulled into a big hug.

Somehow, this man didn't seem much like the cold, emotionless Sherlock that had been described by online fans, or even by his own father's blog. But, he figured that 11 years could change a person very drastically. He hugged Sherlock back with all of the strength he could muster in his little arms. Just knowing that Da was going to be happy, that things were finally going to be okay, and that Hamish actually _liked_Sherlock, was more than enough for the boy.

Hamish looked up at Sherlock with the shine of his own tears in his eyes, "Sherlock. Let's go home."

Sherlock was dumbstruck for a second, but quickly became so excited that he pulled Hamish onto his back and ran for the waiting car. Now, they could only hope that Da took it well.


	9. Chapter 9

The car ride home seemed to take forever. Luckily, Molly turned her camera back on and joined in on Sherlock and Hamish's banter to pass the time. That was, until Sherlock's attention seemed to snap elsewhere and he quickly reached over to turn off the monitor, and then pressed another button, which Hamish presumed to be the microphone allowing Molly to hear what was going on in the back of the car. Sherlock looked directly at Hamish, very seriously.

"Hamish, I don't know if you had anything planned for this little reunion, but I have quite a need to put my own spin on things."

"Okay, Sherlock. What do we need to do?" Hamish said, ready for anything. He knew that Sherlock knew his Da probably better than he did anyways. But, he was also well aware that Sherlock had a strange way of going about many things, so, best to prepare for any eventuality.

"So, here's what I need you to do..." Sherlock gave Hamish a very detailed explanation of what had to be done. Hamish was a little nervous, but he was also very excited about doing something so wonderful for Da. Sherlock's nervous energy seemed to transfer between the both of them, and they were practically ready to fly from the car by the time they turned onto Baker Street.


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as the car stopped, Hamish jumped out of the door, leaving Sherlock behind to sit in the car. He unlocked the front door with his key and ran, full-speed, up the stairs, where he was stopped by a very, very angry-looking Da.

"Hamish Sherlock Holmes. I want to know where you've been, right this instant. I want to know who you've been with, and who that black car sitting outside belongs to."

"Da, it's just a friend of mine gave me a ride home from school is all."

John looked at Hamish suspiciously, but, seeing no sign of doubt of deceit in the child's face, he accepted the excuse. He looked at his son, and a bit of sadness crossed his eyes.

"I'm sorry Hamish. There's a long story behind why cars like that make me nervous. Are you sure this friend of yours is okay?"

Hamish had to hold back a bit of a giggle, "Yeah, Da, the best."

"So, how was school?"

"Okay. Hey Da, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do Hamish, why do you ask?"

"Would you trust me enough to do everything I say for, say, the next fifteen minutes?"

John really looked suspicious now, "Okay? What is this about?"

"That's where you have to trust me, Da. I have a surprise for you. Go sit on the couch."

Hamish rushed to the kitchen to find what he needed. When he'd located the dish towel, he returned to the living room.

"What is that for?"

"You'll see."

Hamish wrapped the towel over his father's eyes, tying it loosely in the back.

"Hamish, I don't know about this."

"Just trust me Da."

Hamish sent the text that he'd had pre-programmed to Sherlock.

"It's time -HW"


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock had been waiting as patiently as he possibly could in the car. He was extremely nervous, or as nervous as Sherlock gets. He didn't know how this was going to turn out, but he ran upstairs hoping for the best.

Upon walking through the door, Sherlock took a deep breath to take in the scent of the place he'd missed for so long. He saw Hamish standing in the doorway to the kitchen with the most devious little smirk on his face he could manage. And then he saw John, sitting on the couch, blindfolded, with an extremely confused look on his face.

Sherlock could tell that, with the way John's body was tensed up, he was ready for a fight, as always. The soldier was nothing if not constantly prepared. But, Hamish saw the look cross Sherlock's face, and looked over to his Da.

"Calm down, Da. The world's not ending. It'll be alright."

John chuckled nervously and tried, unsuccessfully, to relax the muscles in his shoulders.

Sherlock signaled to Hamish with his eyes, and Hamish nodded back to him. He took the few tentative steps required for his long legs to take him across the room, and stood next to John. He looked over to Hamish, who turned around to face the kitchen.

Sherlock bent his face close to John's.

"I missed you." he whispered, pulling the blindfold off.

Before John could have any proper reaction, Sherlock kissed him gently, and pulled him into a hug. Hamish turned around and caught the tears in his Da's eyes as he finally realized what was happening.

"Sh-Sherlock?" It was all John could say, as he just stared and softly cried.

Sherlock said nothing, just nodded and stared back at John. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed, how much had changed in the life of the man before him. There was so much more to read now.

Fleetingly, a different thought crossed Sherlock's mind, and he unwillingly tore his eyes away from the man he loved for half of a second.

Hamish was standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling, and sniffling a bit too. Seeing Sherlock look at him, he crossed the room and wiggled his way between them, trying his best to hug both his dad and Sherlock at the same time.

John looked down at his son, the only good thing that had been left in his life for the past five years. He couldn't help but start crying all over again. Somehow, he could tell what happened, and why he'd been getting so many random texts from Mycroft lately. He'd told him to piss off, but now he understood.

John grabbed both Sherlock and Hamish and pulled them into a huge and crushing hug. The next few weeks would take a lot to get through, and would probably include a lot of very angry conversations with Sherlock about why he hadn't come back. There would be tears, hugs, kisses, and probably everything in between. But, it would definitely be more than worth it.

Sherlock, John, and Hamish could only stare at each other for a while, stemming the flow of tears and basking in the glow of this moment. No one could think of a statement grand enough to describe what had just happened.

After about five minutes, Hamish spoke up, "Let's go get a take-out"

Sherlock and John looked up at each other and burst out laughing. They both laid their hands on Hamish's shoulders.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Hamish." John said with a smile.

The three of them walked out of Baker Street, not knowing what the future would hold for them, but knowing that it would be good.


End file.
